


If I Drink this Beer

by KGe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Reflection, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-28 22:25:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6348058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KGe/pseuds/KGe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A revision of the original song "If I Drink this Beer" by Jonathan Singleton & Brad Tursi from "Nashville"</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Drink this Beer

If I Drink this Beer  
Original Song/Lyrics by Jonathan Singleton & Brad Tursi

 

“I think I am tired.” Cas sighed, looking exhausted. He stood, defeated. “I am going to lie down in the extra room.”

Dean watched the angel, he corrected himself; ex-angel, turn and walk out of the library towards the hallway of rooms in the back of the bunker. He looked so depressed, shoulders slumped, sore, and defeated. Human, he looked human. I did this, he thought to himself. I ruin everyone I love. Mom, Dad, Sammy; over and over Sammy, and now Cas. He was poison, everyone he loved, slowly drowning in the venom.

“Here” Sam loomed in front of him, handing him a beer. “Drink this.”

Dean looked down at the beer, felt the condensation drip from the cold bottle down his hand and into his lap. He stared at the dark spot as it formed on his jeans and leached through the material. Cold; just like him, cold and numb. He stared at the beer.

_If I drink this beer_   
_I'll probably have two or three if I know me_   
_I'll be digging up the past like there’s bodies in the backyard_

Ghosts. Everyone he’d ever known. Everyone he’d ever loved. Slowly turning into ghosts that he’d eventually had to put down. Salt, gasoline and fire. His entire world on fire. Again.

_If I drink this beer_   
_I know it's gonna seem like a good idea_   
_To call you up in the middle of the night_   
_And tell you how I feel_

Was he ready to actually admit how he felt? That it was more than just a profound bond. That every ache was his ache. Every touch sent chills down his spine. Every tilt of the head, confusion and missed jokes, a longing need to explain. To teach. And now that Cas was human he needed that teacher, he needed Dean. And that frightened Dean more than anything else had ever in this world. Ghosts, Vampires, Werewolves, Djinns, Davea’s; he’d lost count, and not because he couldn’t count that high. He could handle them all without a blink of the eye. Research, hunt, kill. That’s how it worked. So ingrained, trained into him. But how do you teach an ex-angel to be human? How did he teach himself how to be needed?

_So I should just put it down_   
_Last thing I need to do tonight is push my luck_   
_Drunk, get all fucked up_   
_And tell you how bad I need your love_   
_And how you'll never find a guy like me again_

A guy like me? What did that even mean? Most days he was good with the hunting, the killing. Traveling every highway and back road of America in a ’67 Impala with the windows down, music up and his brother in the passenger seat. Roaming all their lives, saving people, hunting things. The family business. Did that make him a good person? Did saving people make up for the lying, the cheating, the promiscuity, and the alcohol? He didn’t think so, not every day, not most days. He’d made peace with his demons, prepared to go to Hell to save his brother and yet an Angel of the Lord had rescued him. A whole host of Angels battled their way through the depths of despair to pull him from his fiery prison. Died for him and one had pulled him out. Saved him. Dean. The Righteous Man. Most days that was a bone crushing weight to live under, to live up to. So he tried harder, to save more, to be better. And now here was one more person he had to save.

_If I drink this beer_   
_I know it's gonna lead to more_   
_And I ain't sure what I'd do if I knocked on your door_   
_And you let me in_

Would he even let him in? Would he blame Dean for falling again? That he’d given it all up for him once already; rebelled and was hunted all for Dean. Because he’d believed in Dean wholeheartedly. And Dean had failed; again. Did he blame Dean as much as Dean blamed himself? Did it matter that everything he’d ever done, every decision, every action had always been to save the world, to save Sammy, to save Cas? Did it matter what the road to Hell was paved with? Because Dean was pretty sure God wasn’t saving him again. Not after every mess up since then. Every deal gone wrong, every fucked up ending. Did God still believe in Dean? Did Dean? More importantly, did Cas?

_If I take just one sip_   
_It's gonna get ugly quick_   
_And, man, it's tough, 'cause I'm in love_   
_And I need to ease the pain_   
_So I should just put it down_

_Last thing I need to do tonight is push my luck_   
_Drunk, get all fucked up_   
_And tell you how bad you need my love_   
_And how I'll never find a guy like you again_

And Dean knew he could search the world a hundred millennium and never find another guy like Cas. Another soul. Man or woman didn’t matter. It wasn’t about the vessel, though if he actually admitted it that did kind of freak him out a bit, he saw past Jimmy every time he looked at him. He saw Cas. And every time, without fail, it took his breath away. He was struck dumb by the beauty, the energy, the grace. He saw peace, and calm, and acceptance, forgiveness and love. Would he still see that now? As the last of his Grace faded would that fade too? It hadn’t yet. It was all still there. It was still Cas he saw when he looked at him. Back then, when Cas was still an Angel, it had scared him to think someone could love him that wholly, that completely, without reservations or doubt. And the biggest thing that scared him now was what if Cas couldn’t.

_I still won't know if you love me back_   
_And that beer is all I'll have to hold_   
_And it's cold as you at the end of the telephone line_   
_In the middle of the night at the side of the road_

_So I should just put it down_   
_Last thing I need to do tonight is push my luck_   
_Drunk, get all fucked up_   
_Yeah I should just put it down_   
_Last thing I need to do tonight is push my luck_   
_Drunk, get all fucked up_   
_And tell you how bad I need your love_   
_And how you'll never find a guy like me again_

_If I drink this beer_   
_I'll probably have two or three if I know me_   
_I'll be digging up the past like there’s bodies in the backyard_

Sam had watched quietly as Dean sat frozen in place, the beer he’d handed him dripping, staring blankly at the doorway the Angel had walked through 20 minutes ago. If he thought about it long enough he could have fit all the pieces together like some giant puzzle. But it wasn’t his puzzle to solve and the truth of it was it didn’t matter to him one way or another who loved whom, or who needed whom more. They were family. That was all that mattered. One way or another they would all be there for each other. That was family. That was love.

"Dean,” he startled his brother out of his reverie “Drink your beer.”

Dean turned his head away from the doorway, glanced at Sam and sighed as he brought the bottle to his lips and drank his beer.


End file.
